On the day that I saw Lauren Pattison, she walked on stage and asked if there was anyone from Newcastle in the audience. When a couple of cheers went up, quick as a flash the 23-year-old Geordie remarked: “Oh, there’s enough for a fight then.”

This set the tone for a deliciously bawdy hour of unapologetic oversharing and filthy jokes, which spit and bubble like chips in a deep-fat fryer. That might sound off-putting, but Pattison, who reached the BBC New Comedy Awards final in 2016 and recently supported Katherine Ryan on tour, delivers her highly personal material with an unmistakable edge of vulnerability, which softens the bravado. It is an intoxicating combination.

When Pattison moved to London last year, her boyfriend of four years, who still lived in Newcastle, cut her out of his life – or “ghosted” her – leaving Pattison with, she says, the same level of self-confidence as “a bloke on the internet with no profile picture”. Lady Muck, Pattison’s Fringe debut, is about how she put her life back together again.

In many respects, it’s a rather sweet coming-of-age tale. The conclusion to the show is genuinely both heartbreaking and uplifting, even if the message that we should all learn to love ourselves is hardly an original one. But there’s a wild ride of hard living to hear about before we get to that point.

In one memorable routine, Pattison recalls a blind date in the park. To her horror, the bloke arrives with two small beers, whereas she has already had “a bottle of prosecco on the bus as an amuse-bouche”. You don’t doubt it for a second; Pattison is quite clearly an ally you’d want for a trip to the local.

It’s not all boozing and bodily malfunction, though. Pattison is at her very best when she’s angry. She delivers a bruising attack on male chauvinism, rails against her depression, and flashes two fingers at the easily offended. It’s rare to see a debut show as fully formed as this, delivered with such aplomb.

Because of Pattison’s Geordie roots and indecent subject matter, comparisons will no doubt be made with Sarah Millican, who also arrived on the Fringe (some years ago now) and blew everyone away. Those comparisons would be unfair, though: whisper it, but Pattison might just turn out to be a whole lot funnier. Catch her now before she hits the big time.